


In a Different Light

by Slazersc



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars: Rebels
Genre: Blind Kanan Jarrus, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Injury Recovery, Post-Episode: s02e19-20 Twilight of the Apprentice
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-13
Updated: 2016-07-13
Packaged: 2018-07-23 19:33:09
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,011
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7477011
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Slazersc/pseuds/Slazersc
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Two months after the events on Malachor, Kanan is still learning to cope.</p>
            </blockquote>





	In a Different Light

The sound of footsteps approaching his campsite rouses Kanan from the meditative trance of his kata. He frowns, unable to suppress the stab of annoyance at the intrusion. He'd specifically picked this location for its distance from the main base, assuming that no one would come all this way to disturb him. It appears that he was mistaken.

Although it's been happening less and less lately, the sheer press of people all around still gets to him sometimes, an itch under his skin and an ache behind his ... He cuts off the thought brutally, sets about gathering the frayed remnants of his calm. It's a futile exercise. The crunch of gravel underfoot is getting louder, overwhelming the soft susurration of his own movements. There's a rebuff on the tip of his tongue, but the trek out to this camp is long and arduous, and it would be rude to dismiss someone who's made the effort.

"Don't usually get anyone coming out this way," he calls over his shoulder. "Are you lost?"

"Kanan? It's me."

"Ezra. Sorry, should've realized. I'd offer you a drink, but I'm kinda busy right now."

"Don't mind me, I'm just here to watch."

Silence descends once more. To his surprise, Ezra really does seem content to stand quietly to one side. Kanan immerses himself again in the motions of the exercise, the hum of his blade through the air, the movements of block, feint and strike flowing one into another. It's only near the end of the third kata that his visitor speaks.

"Just so you know, Hera didn't send me. But she worries when you disappear like this, so I promised her I'd keep an eye on you."

Kanan doesn't answer, just concentrates on the final forms. He finishes the kata with a low sweeping slash, deliberately showy, ending in a splay-fingered crouch with his blade flung out behind him at the apex of the strike's arc. He holds the pose and smirks at the sound of slow applause. Straightening, he stows his weapon and bows to his appreciative audience. "Glad you liked it, but showtime's over. It's your turn."

His student groans. "Do I have to? I'm still sore from yesterday."

"And whose fault was that?" he shoots back, still grinning. Then, on a whim. "Alright then, let's spar."

His words are met by silence. Shocked silence. Ezra probably hasn’t expected him to suggest anything like this.

"Kanan, are you sure you're ... up for this?"

"I’m so kriffing unready that it's not even funny, but I'll never improve if I don't get off my butt and do something about it." He barks a laugh. "And endless dancing in the sun _isn’t_ doing something about it. So let's get to it." He draws his blade with a flourish, holds it vertical in a double-handed opening stance. Ezra follows suit, but it's clear that he's hesitant. He spends the first few minutes circling, blocking and retreating, never once initiating an attack.

"Going easy on me isn't doing me any favors, Ezra. You know that. Now come at me!" The last is a bellowed command, and Ezra obeys instinctively, charging forward with blade raised. They crash together with such force that Kanan feels the impact jar up both arms and Ezra nearly loses hold of his own blade. The locked weapons scrape and snarl as they test each other’s strength, then Kanan shoves his student away and they spring apart.

Kanan's next thrust goes wide as Ezra dodges and then exploits the opening for his own attack. The older man has to cede ground as his opponent pushes his advantage, the two of them exchanging a flurry of blows. One of Ezra's strikes gets past his guard and he hisses as his student tags him on the ribs. He cuts off any apology with a swipe of his hand, then gathers himself and shifts impossibly, changing direction almost mid-step and lunging for Ezra's unprotected flank. His opponent yelps and whirls to face him and they crash together again. This time, Kanan swivels sideways and levers the other's weapon to the ground. The blade hits rock in a shower of sparks.

Unsurprisingly, his student can’t resist showing off a little in the midst of their sparring session. He jumps up out of the way of a low slash, but doesn’t stop there. The power of his leap somersaults him over Kanan’s head and puts him behind the older man. Kanan spins in response, throwing out a Force push before Ezra can recover, knocking him onto his butt. "That'll teach you to show off!"

When they close again, Ezra reverses direction at the last moment. Without the expected resistance from his opponent's weapon, Kanan is caught off balance, stumbling forward almost onto the other's blade. Ezra pulls away just in time, but it's so close that Kanan can feel the heat from the lightsaber as it passes just centimeters from his face. He immediately presses his next attack, doesn't allow himself or Ezra to dwell on the close shave.

The sun is high when Kanan finally calls a halt. Limbs shaky with fatigue, he staggers to a nearby rock overhang and drops gratefully into the shade. Ezra plops himself down beside him, practically vibrating with excitement.

"Kanan, that was amazing! You blocked or avoided almost every blow! I mean, yeah, I was holding back and slowing my attacks, but it's almost like ... like you can still see."

"I can't." Kanan smiles a little to take the sting from his words, touches the blindfold across the ruin of his eyes. "I still miss it. The colors of the sunrise, your grin, Hera's smile. I don't think I'll ever stop missing them. I ..." He winces. The headache that's been nagging at him seems to be getting worse.

"I'm fine," he adds hastily to reassure his Padawan. Then a stab of pain shoots right through his brain, causing him to clutch at his head. "No, not fine. Not fine. It feels like a great big karking headache coming on."

"Really?" Ezra sounds unconvinced. "You were able to sense those AT-AT walkers on Seelos with no problems. Why is this causing a headache?"

"Sensing slow, hulking walkers is very different from detecting and reacting to every split-second action an opponent takes. It needs far more concentration to sense fine, rapid movements." Another stab of pain. He groans and curls into a ball of misery. "Just kill me now."

"C'mon Kanan, it can't be that bad." His unsympathetic Padawan doesn't sound the least bit concerned. Kanan is sorely tempted to bash his head against the ground if there's even a possibility the new pain will distract him from the current one.

"If I die from this, you're fired."

Ezra actually laughs, the rascal. "I don't think it works that way, Master. But okay, I'll go get Hera."

"No, wait, don't ..." He tries to uncurl, but is swamped by a wave of nausea and hunches further into himself. "If Hera sees me like this ..."

"You'll never hear the end of it. I know."

Retreating footsteps tell him that Ezra seems to have lost interest and is now heading off to investigate the campsite. Then there's the sound of water being poured and, a few moments later, a blessedly cool, wet cloth is pressed to his forehead. Kanan groans with relief, clutches at the towel like a lifeline. For a while, he's content to just lie there, feeling the vicious pounding in his head subside a little. Ezra is still moving around as though searching for something, but Kanan doesn't really notice, lost in a haze of relief.

"Here, I found these among your supplies." Two small objects are pressed into his hand. It takes Kanan a moment to recognize the pills for what they are: painkillers from when his eye sockets were still raw wounds. He hasn't touched any in weeks, had packed them automatically for his trip and then forgotten about them. He swallows the pills gratefully, takes small sips of water from the bottle Ezra passes to him.

"Can you move? We should get you somewhere more comfortable." Kanan nods and, helped by Ezra's steady hands, rises hesitantly to his feet. The Force has deserted him completely, leaving him bereft. Attempting to use it to sense his surroundings is out of the question. He's truly blind, drowning in a sea of black. Ezra must feel his rising panic through their Master-Padawan bond, but makes no comment. Instead, he just lends a supporting shoulder and guides Kanan to the shade of the tent, where the bedroll has been laid out. When they're both seated, his student replenishes the water for the makeshift compress and passes the bottle back to him.

It takes a while, but Kanan is immensely relieved when the pain fades to a dull ache and his Force sense returns. The first thing he's aware of is that his student is a bundle of worry beside him, triggered no doubt by his own panic earlier.

"I'm fine, Ezra. Really. It just scared me when I couldn't sense anything through the Force, but it's come back now."

And of course Ezra's curiosity gets the better of him. "What's it like, seeing with the Force?"

"The Force flows through every living thing; they're all luminous with it. On the other hand, inert objects don't channel the Force, but don't block it either, so they appear mostly translucent. Back on base, I can easily tell who's in the next room, and the next, and the next ... I can tune out those further away, but it can still get overwhelming, the sense of so many people. That's why I come here sometimes, to get away for a little peace and quiet. As for combat, it isn't as straightforward as just sensing an opponent. I can tell where you are and when you move, but I still listen to the Force and let it guide my attacks."

Kanan turns his head to regard his Padawan, a glowing presence beside him. Around them are the outlines of his tent and camping supplies, beyond which he can make out the uneven rocky terrain, lit briefly by flashes as small creatures skitter by. And in the distance, at the edge of awareness, the many people at the rebel base going about their daily activities.

"You know, it's strange. Before today, I was mainly trying to get around without tripping, bumping into people or falling down ladders. But I didn't really believe I could properly wield a lightsaber in combat ever again." In the years after Order 66, he'd kept it hidden away, out of sight and out of mind. But after losing his eyes, the thought of not being able to wield it again fills him with a profound sense of loss. But perhaps it doesn't have to be that way. It feels almost unreal, but the hope blossoming in his chest will not be denied. "Maybe, just maybe, I can make this work and my lightsaber won't go back to gathering dust as another forgotten relic."

The world isn't dark just because your eyes are closed; all you need to do is open them. And now, finally, Kanan truly understands that the Force will be his light.

 

 

Outtake:

"Don't usually get anyone coming out this way," he calls over his shoulder. "Are you lost?"

The distinct lack of response causes him to stop and turn towards the newcomer, cocking his head in inquiry.

"It's me, Ezra. Um ... did you get a new blindfold, Kanan? It's ... very nice."

"What do you mean 'nice'? They're just pieces of white cloth that Hera dug up."

"I know you can't tell, but ... the one you're wearing, it's not white anymore. It looks as though Sabine spilt her entire paint collection on it."

"What?!" He ... doesn't shriek, it's more of a high-pitched yell, but he can almost feel Ezra wince.

"Yeah, very colorful. Eye-popping really."

It's Kanan's turn to wince at the less than ideal word choice.

"Not helping, Ezra," he grumbles. "Really not helping."

**Author's Note:**

> This started partly as a kind of writing exercise, where readers unfamiliar with Kanan and Ezra don't get confirmation that they're Jedi until about a third of the way through. This is followed a little later by the reveal that Kanan has been fighting blind the whole time. Finally, the "you're fired" line was shamelessly stolen from the Jedi Knight story in SWTOR.


End file.
